Conflict and Courage

by Candy Rae

  “How many boats do they have? Duchesne was isolated in that castle of his and if Sam Baker has been planting false information? The Resistance also, they have not reported any immediate alert.”

  “Enough to do the job,” was the chilling response. “They did say the regiments were practising war.”

  “Indeed they did, in Brentwood too, I wonder … and there is that unconfirmed report of the kohorts moving upriver.”

  * * * * *

  The welcoming committee was waiting at the quayside for the southern influx.

  Francis as Susa, Wilhelm as Weaponsmaster and Geraldine as Ryzcka of the Ryzck on duty in the landing area, were the obvious choices. A large number of both Vada and settlers were preparing behind the scenes.

  “Whatever possesses them?” asked Geraldine, “they’ve tried once and failed.” They were discussing the current situation and reasoning why Sam Baker had turned on Duchesne now.

  “The Larg or the convicts? Either way, I think, necessity,” answered Francis. “Sam Baker commands a predominately male and ageing population. He needs more women to breed from and he believes that helping the Larg to raid Argyll is the best way to do it.”

  “And there is the little matter of revenge,” added Wilhelm. “I think that’s what’s really behind all this. In return for ridding him and his ilk of Duchesne he aids the Larg in their fight against us.”

  “The Lindars are moving,” agreed Geraldine, “we’ll be ready for them.”

  “What do you know about this Pierre Duchesne?” asked Wilhelm.

  “Not much,” Francis answered, “but what I do know is mostly good. He got rid of all of his undesirables I know that, notably those who instigated that horrendous burning at Settlement.”

  Geraldine looked unconvinced.

  “Duchesne’s regiment was not the worst,” continued Francis, “he has always forbidden rape and pillage. He deeply regrets that it was some of his men who did the burnings. I believe his redemption started then, when he began to fully realise the type of people he was consorting with. He didn’t like what he saw and when he got the chance, he claimed lands as far away from Baker and the others as he could. He weeded out the men he distrusted and for the last eight years he has been, by all accounts, a fair and good leader. He sent home some of the captured women and Louis Randall tells me that his people respect him. Some of the women actually refused repatriation when it was offered.”

  “They’ve no choice now though.”

  “He says too that his men will fight with us.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Not yet, he must prove himself before I’ll go that far.”

  “He has a fair bit of incentive, I don’t think Baker and the Larg will be all that happy with him. They’ll kill him if given half a chance.”

  “The Larg kill anybody if given half chance,” said Jsei with a quirk of his whiskers.

  “Heard from Jim recently?” asked Geraldine.

  “Not for a day or so,” was the answer, “Asya got some nonsense from Larya that Jim is worried that Argyll is not the target.”

  “The islands are the only viable route north,” protested Wilhelm.

  “Maybe his brains are getting addled,” said Francis.

  “Don’t let him hear you say that,” grinned Geraldine, “he’ll have your ducks for garters.”

  “Is that the boats?” cried Wilhelm at that point. “I can see them on the horizon!”

  Geraldine’s Ryzck had been busy all through the night erecting travelling tents so the refugees would have a night’s shelter before they moved on to the stronghold. Rain was forecast for the next few days. The Lind, whose weather sense was acute, had said that it was a very good thing that Duchesne’s people were arriving when they were. If the weather did indeed close in it would have been very dangerous for the overloaded boats to cross the ocean current.

  The sky was grey and overcast, a sure indication of bad weather to come.

  Cherry, Baltvei at her side, stood to one side of the main welcoming committee, jumping up and down with impatience at the thought of seeing Louis and Ustinya again. Baltvei’s eyes were half-closed as he established mental contact with Ustinya. He passed messages to his partner. Cherry’s face kept breaking into smiles.

  The lead boat tacked into the harbour.

  It was the Lind of Light, the smack belonging to Justin Wright with, onboard, as well as a large number of the prior residents of Duchesne, the Duchesne family, the aforementioned Michael Wallace, his wife Martine and their small son. Pierre Duchesne stood beside Louis Randall watching as Briony and the two younger boys Jean and Jules stood gazing at the fast approaching shore. As usual Jacques was glued to Ustinya’s side and was vocal in his assertion that he wasn’t going to leave it, even when they landed.

  Louis, after he had consulted with Ustinya, hoped that they had solved the problem. He and Ustinya would have much to do when they landed and this would be almost impossible with a small boy tagging along. There was Cherry and Baltvei to consider as well. Aglaya of the Avuzdel, he knew, was close to the landing site, together with some senior Vada ready to debrief the incomers.

  With the female Lind was her much younger sister, Jtanya. She had very clear instructions to attach herself to the Duchesne family, part guard and part mentor. Jtanya had received a further order, to stay close to young Jacques and divert his attention away from Ustinya.

  It had been decided that this was the quickest way to integrate the southerners. Quite a number of unattached Lind were waiting from various packs, predominantly those who had failed to find a suitable matching life-mate, they were all keen to nose around the newcomers both to fish out any who might be spies for Baker and to get them used to the Lind on a day-to-day basis and perhaps a few might find their vadeln-partner.

  “Almost there,” said Louis. “Quite a welcoming committee and I have been informed that a hot meal awaits us. I’ll be glad to get off this boat and stretch my legs.”

  Ustinya agreed. There was not a lot of room on any of the boats for much stretching out and she was correspondingly stiff.

  Jacques was bobbing around with excitement very like an inebriated buzz-fly.

  “We’ll be on dry land soon,” warned Louis, “calm down.”

  “Listen to Louis,” interposed Briony, her hands full with Jean and Jules, but it took his father to calm him, the threat of being taken away from Ustinya enough to still his activities, at least for a while. He did however continue to talk nineteen to the dozen, asking never-ending questions about his new home.

  For Jacques this was the adventure of a lifetime, he couldn’t wait to go exploring and told Ustinya this, repeatedly.

  : Jtanya keep him occupied : comforted Ustinya.

  “Jtanya will have her paws full keeping this one out of trouble,” was the immediate riposte from Louis.

  “Who is Jtanya and how will he keep me out of trouble,” demanded Jacques.

  “Jtanya is a she, not a he,” answered Ustinya. “She is waiting to meet you and your brothers.”

  “Is Jtanya a Lind? Will I be able to ride on her back like I do you? Does she look like you?”

  “If you are very good, I am sure she will give you a ride,” answered the patient Ustinya. “She looks a bit like me, but with a different colour pattern because she comes from a different pack, she is very like Alesei here.”

  “Are you sure he is a Lind?” asked the irrepressible Jacques, “He looks like what Dad says the Larg look like. They’re brownie coloured, not like you. I thought he was a Larg when I saw him at first. Dad says the Larg are not to be trusted.”

  “You can trust us Jacques, I promise and I think you and Jtanya will get on very well. She also asks a great many questions.”

  “Like me? I ask questions ‘cos I want to know things. Does she want to know things as well?”

  Ustinya sighed.

  “Now remember,” said Pierre to his eldest, “no running around as soon as we reach land.” To Usti
nya he added, “is that right? Does she talk as much as him?”

  “Oh yes,” answered Ustinya, “they well suited. I remember Jtanya when she little. Curious about everything. I once looked after she and some other ltsctas when her mother was ill. I shudder when I remember.”

  “Tell me,” said Jacques eagerly.

  “Ask her yourself,” was Ustinya’s rejoinder. “It will help you to learn our language. Not every Lind speaks human as well as I.”

  “Lessons?” Jacques sighed.

  “Lessons are fun,” she answered, then added, “now be quiet while boat docks.”

  Justin steered the boat into the jetty. Willing hands grabbed the ropes and secured the lines.

  “We go now,” Ustinya decided, “Baltvei is waiting. I see him.”

  She craned her head and added, “Cherry there.”

  Louis had already spotted his intended. She stood beside Baltvei, her face one giant grin of welcome.

  “Welcome to you all,” Francis McAllister called, “Welcome to Vadath. Get ashore as quickly as you can, we have a meal and shelter waiting. Which one of you is Duchesne?”

  “I am,” Pierre owned from the guardrail.

  “Francis McAllister,” the Susa of the Vada introduced himself, eyeing this old enemy, now friend, “if you would stay here with me when you land and help direct your people? We have others who will look after your wife and sons.”

  Duchesne glanced over at the group of men, women and Lind waiting in a bunch at the edge of the pier.

  “They’re briefed,” continued Francis, “as each boat disembarks they will lead your people to the shelters. Tented accommodation for tonight I’m afraid, there are too many of you for the village. Tomorrow you’ll start moving inland to more permanent quarters.”

  Pierre turned to Justin.

  “Thank you for coming to get us,” he said, “if you would pass on my thanks?”

  “To the other skippers?”

  Pierre nodded.

  “I’ll do that and best of luck, must say that you’re not what I expected.”

  “You expected a bunch of ill-mannered convicts?”

  “Something like that,” admitted Justin, “be careful though, remember what I told you, most of us in Vadath are prepared to accept you but many have reservations.”

  “I’ll remember,” promised Pierre as he prepared to follow Louis and Ustinya down the gangplank.

  “Do that.”

  Predictably, Jacques pushed past his father to position himself at Ustinya’s heels and Pierre snaked out a long arm to grab him. He had recognised the adult Cherry Howard in the crowd, knew Louis was anxious to see Cherry again and would appreciate a little privacy.

  “Stay beside me,” he ordered.

  Jacques pouted but eased back beside his father who did not, however, relax his hold.

  Pierre felt rather diffident about meeting Cherry Howard, he felt a great deal of responsibility for her father’s death at the deceased Lord Brentwood’s hands and not knowing how she felt about his arrival in Vadath did not wish to risk a confrontation. Later, he would speak to her about her mother. He saw her glance over in his direction as she welcomed Louis, then Francis McAllister claimed his attention regarding the little matter of the disembarkation and disposition of his people.

  “If you would tell them to move up the jetty as fast as they are able; our people will look after them from there. Have you any sick or wounded aboard?”

  “In the third boat with the doctors,” answered Pierre, “though there is a wounded Lind on this boat. We’ve done our best for him; he is a hero. If he hadn’t managed to warn us the Larg were on their way I dread to think where we would be now.” Pierre shook his head, lost for words.

  “We would all be dead,” Michael Wallace supplied the answer, “will I stay here as well my Lord?”

  Pierre looked at Francis who nodded.

  One look at Michael and Francis identified him as a kindred spirit, a no-nonsense practical man very like himself.

  “If you would Michael,” said Pierre, “but wouldn’t you prefer to go with Martine and your boy?”

  “It’ll be easier with the two of us and will reassure those who arrive that we are both happy to let our families go on ahead. Anyway, I have a far louder shout than you and the men are used to my ordering them about. The sooner we can get everyone ashore and settled the sooner we’ll be debriefed and can get some rest. I am sure that you sir,” he executed a quick bow in Francis’s direction, “have a great many questions to ask.”

  As this was exactly what Francis and Asya were thinking, Michael’s offer of assistance was welcomed with relief.

  Michael grinned at him.

  “Right then,” he bellowed cupping his hands as he turned to the disembarked, “Let’s be having you. Up the jetty and go with the northerners. Don’t be afraid, they’ll look after you.”

  After this, the disembarkation was easy. As each smack berthed and the gangways secured, a stream of men, their women and children in their midst, began to line up in orderly fashion on the jetty. Single men brought up the rear of each boat party. One or two of them looked around as they landed, fingering their swords.

  “Tell them they have nothing to fear,” Francis instructed Michael. “They can keep their weapons.”

  At this, the men relaxed.

  “We are among friends here,” encouraged Michael, “now move along.”

  Soon the temporary campsite was filled to the brim of thankful and relieved refugees. Briony and her three plus Martine and young Gerald were safely in their tent, except for Jacques who was sitting outside with Jtanya, one thin arm draped over her withers. They were talking. Jtanya’s tail thumped on the ground, demonstrating to those who knew the Lind that she was experiencing intense contentment. Pierre when he saw them doubted very much if Briony would be able to persuade him to leave the Lind female when it was time for bed.

  “Your son seems happy enough,” said Francis as they, Michael Wallace following close after, walked the short way to his and Asya’s larger tent where the debriefing was to take place.

  “You have children of your own?” queried Pierre.

  “We have three children and nine ltsctas, that’s what the Lind call their young, in the family. My eldest boy must be about the same age as yours.”

  “The children will adapt quicker than us adults,” surmised Michael, “do you not think so my Lord?”

  Pierre turned round. “I don’t think there are any Lords here in the north Michael,” he said with wry amusement. “Call me Pierre if you will. From now on I am an ordinary citizen.”

  “You’re right there,” assented Francis with a guffaw. “Our society is completely different here in Vadath. No King, no need for one.”

  “Who rules then?” asked Michael.

  “Both species. Lind packs are ruled by their elders and we humans have just sort of fitted in with them. The four packs that have their rtathlians in Vadath all have humans living with them who help govern their packs. It works out fairly well. In Argyll though they have an elected Council and of course the Vada is different again.”

  “Vada?”

  “Our cavalry. Asya and I command the Vada. You’ll meet her in a moment, she is waiting in the tent.”

  “Where will we live?” asked Michael, “with the packs?”

  “That is still to be decided,” answered Francis, “to begin with though, we rather thought that, once you and your people are rested, we should make for the stronghold where most of the Vada live and train. The majority are out on patrol and we have emptied the trainee barracks to make room. It’ll be a bit crowded but it won’t be for long. There’s plenty of free land around and we’re always looking for talented and hardworking craftspeople and farmers.”

  “Many of us do farm,” answered Pierre. “Farming, fishing and forestry is what we have been doing for the last eight years.”

  “Your regiment?”

  “Only around two hundred now,” interpos
ed Michael. “Most were glad to set aside their swords for plough and anvil. About a hundred and eighty made it out with us.”

  “How good are they?” pressed Francis.

  “They’ve been patrolling the borders for the last eight years. They know how to handle themselves in a fight.”

  When they reached the tent where Asya sat waiting for them, Francis lifted the flap aside to let Pierre and Michael enter. She had been listening in to the conversation through her mind link with Francis.

  “Good evening,” she said, rising to her paws, “and will you and your people fight with us if what we fear comes to pass?”

  “Yes, most definitely,” exploded Pierre. “They were going to kill us. My men will fight.”

  “All of them?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I am a Lind. I would give my life for my friends and pack-mates.”

  “You have taken us in and welcomed us. After what has happened in the past, I would not have been surprised had you refused, but you didn’t and yes, we will fight.”

  Asya nodded with satisfaction and prepared herself to contact her dam. Larya and Jim would want to know what was happening.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 35 – NADLIANS OF THE LARG

  It was a long-held desire of the Larg, to hold the fertile northern continent as their own, with its lush vegetation and abundant herds. Why should they live in the southern continent where, except for in the far south, it was predominately desert except for the areas around the rivers? The north had no desert and unlimited water. Starvation was rare in the north.

  The Largan wished to gain a permanent pawhold there. They saw the Vada as the major stumbling block to this, their most cherished aspiration.

  When they had made their initial pact with the convicts from the WCPS Electra, this hope had been at its zenith, but their defeat eight years previously had put paid to it. Now with drought hitting their home ranges for the second consecutive hot season and with the passage over the island chain blocked, an attack on Vadath was their only option.